To Taste of Absolution
by hand2sorrow
Summary: Rewritten. War weary, Harry escapes with his baby, godfather, and a widowed werewolf to Forks, where decrepit silences threaten ruin. Edward Cullen, hollow and listless, agonizes over the maddening new self-defense instructor SLASH.Eventual HP/EC,RL/SB.
1. Chapter 1

**Updated A/N June 2011:** This story has been slightly rewritten to better fit my more sane and logical taste at the current date. I'M BACK! I know I've left this story for years, so I thank any original readers willing to stick around and continue to read this fic. ^_^ If no one's visited my profile, I'll recap the sheer madness of my ramblings by stating that I've been sick for what seems like forever. The illness was sudden, annoying, and was pesky enough to mess with my natural sense of crazed cheer and turned me into some ridiculous cross between Mr. Grouch and Eeyore. I'm now sick of being sick and on enough meds to need regular blood tests just to ensure my liver's not shriveling into a bean. It's a joy, really. I've sat out the entirety of my senior year in college, currently awaiting for the board to declare me sane enough to return and talking to random walls in an effort to not bore myself when I'm not working. Due to the stares, I've decided to redirect my energy to writing again. YAY! ENJOY!

**Pairings: **Eventual EC/HP,RL/SB ECLIPSE Past relationships GW/HP, NT/RL, RL/SB, BS/EC. No Character bashing.

**(oldish A/N:)** "Hello! I finally decided to try my hand at this particular crossover. The Potter world, or Harry's past, goes away from Canon after sixth book—he's been through a harsh decade of war before coming to Forks as a 21 yr old, just months after killing Voldemort. In the Twilight universe, the Volturi are harsher in their demands in New Moon, and things go from there. There will be No Character Bashing. At all. I just wanted to see if I could possibly garner any interests with this fic. So, please review and let me know what you think. Eclipse states that Edward returns to school, for "a handful of weeks" before graduation, which in interest of the timeline and believability, I will adjust to Edward actually returning for the spring semester of Senior high.

**Warning:** This WILL BE SLASH, and has a M rating at that, meaning males will be engaged in a sexual relationship. There will also be strong language and swearing. An M rating implies adult situations inappropriate for a younger audience, which there will be plenty of. Please heed the warnings.

**Ch. 1**_** RESOLVE**_

_**The narrative begins from New Moon, the Volturi scene (in case anyone's interested in that fact).**_

Alice stiffened, eyes glazed to lunacy as she assaulted Edward with her visions, piercing through his temple with a frenzy of panic. The images seemed fractured, laced with such torturous resolve despite his sister's frantic deconstructions.

The Volturi watched, impassive faces mocking the hysterical cry threatening to rip from his throat.

Passivity shattered with detest in only a pair of blood red eyes. Caius: always the instigator. "The girl will expose our secrets," he explained slowly, as if Edward was nothing but an ignorant child. "In contrast to our human pets, we do not blind ourselves in a veil of affection that could stand the risk of exposing us to _her_ _kind_," he spat. "You could not destroy her if she threatened to speak."

Aro's burst of laughter rang out.

Edward flinched.

Alice's vision was unwinding in reality like it wasn't supposed to, bearing its ugly talons and he was heedless to stop it, too weak to claw into Aro's stony flesh until he made him stop breathing _god_ _damn_ it, made the words he was about to say die before they came.

Regardless of the supposed democracy that was the Volturi, it was very much conductive to Aro being dictator. And Aro was the worst type of poison. "We will allow her to live, Caius," Aro cut in with a little smile, and the burn in his blood was excruciating as the old vampire turned his gaze to him and Edward _knew_ what was coming.

"But as punishment for your petulance and blatant disregard for our laws, you shall not continue relations with this human," Aro sighed.

Horror still flooded to his chest and _squeezed_. "And if I do?" They would have to nail his arms to the floor with stakes if they wanted him to comply because it wouldn't be fathomable to leave Bella otherwise. Just one month away from her and he'd been reduced to depravity, crushing the doorknob of his South American apartment for hours, reaching for straws as to why he shouldn't crawl his cursed body back to Forks.

And when Rosalie voice had uttered that Bella had taken her own life, it had been all he could do not to feed on everyone and anything with life, to gorge until the monster inside him was screaming to her "why?" and "how?" and "when?" and "WHY? DAMN HER, WHY?"

"If I can't-" Edward stepped forward, halting when Cauis' face twisted into a menacing snarl.

"Then you forfeit both your lives."

As Edward fought the urge to commit unspeakable acts of violence in the rage that consumed him, he shoved the emotion down, gripping an ornate banister as he bowed his head. "I besiege you-" he begged before being thrown back against the wall.

"You are tethered on a very thin rope already," Felix hissed, unable to take his disobedience any longer, his claim to the title of warden reigning true. He bruised Edward's jaw with the ferocity of his grip, "the mercy we show you now is a favor to Carlisle alone."

"Master, can I…?" The small form in the corner hummed smoothly. Petite little Jane, the sadist of the flavorful bunch…

Edward grimaced despite himself.

"Leave it, my dear Jane," Aro responded, dismissing Felix and replacing his hands with his own pallid palms. His hand hovered over Edward's face, not touching, but enough to belittle him with the realization that he was completely at their mercy.

"Oh, Edward, my young one, I know how _agonizing_," he sighed with glee, "this will be, but the next time you attempt to expose yourself, we will not stop at you. Imagine, your precious family and hers in the balance…how I do love my tragedies as well." Aro smiled beatifically. "No, we will expect you to live just as you were, Edward. We wouldn't want Carlisle upset, would we?" he said, as if he wasn't already shaking at their tenacity.

The expected sway of a small body behind him came before he heard the 'swoosh' of it crumbling to the ground.

"Bella!" Edward croaked, just managing to catch her as she collapsed behind them.

Felix watched them silently, gifting Edward with the mental imagery of Bella's fragile neck being squeezed until it snapped. Edward would put up a fight, just as Felix had done after nameless faces had taken his own mate's life, but only Edward himself would come to an undignified end.

Edward wound his arms protectively around Bella, glancing at Aro for security against Felix's fantasies, sacrificing the rest of his dignity in the exchange and with it the right to challenge them any longer.

Edward wouldn't even get to feel a sense of righteousness for extinguishing his only reason to exist. And wasn't that hysterical?

The cold faces of the other members in the group stared passively back at him, Aro feigning sympathy. "You know, dear Edward, we would have loved to keep her," he bent over to stroke Bella's cheek, ignoring how Edward curled his fist to keep from striking him, "but alas I feel that her nature might be too soft for the likes of us. Much too precious for your warm little coven, in fact..."

Aro swept gracefully to the other side of the room, his onyx hair catching the light as he returned with a black cloak. "To conceal you," he explained with gentleness as he placed it on Edward's slumped shoulders. "Do wait for nightfall on your way out; though it would be best not to dally…surely you know how opinion sways." Here he smiled at Felix.

Demetri positioned himself at the door, ready to escort them back to the lower levels. Edward hesitated before carefully arranging Bella in his arms, having to shift only slightly to get them both through the adorned doorway. Alice, with all her grace, still shot him glances as they were led to the tunnel to the outside world.

His sister helped a stirring Bella out of his arms an hour later. Edward found himself incapable of looking at her.

Bella, bright girl that she was, waited, painfully bearing the brunt of his humiliation and devastation as they treaded across the ancient streets of Volterra and boarded their plane. The flight, unbearable as it was with Bella seated next to him, was a necessary agony.

The rest of the night passed in gasping flashes full of torturous resolve disguised in petty kindnesses.

Esme's mothering arms seared him with condolences, while Rosalie's apologies filtered like ashes through his ears. As he faltered through the reality, the eyes of his coven branded his back with pity.

Bella's window was bitingly cold as he climbed inside her bedroom, telling himself it would be the last time he saw the little glass lamb on Bella's dresser, the lion next to it roaring at the pebbled ceiling of her room, at the tiny pink glowing stars left from her childhood.

He resolved to take the ridiculous little lamb with him and shatter the lion for its perverseness.

"Edward."

Her voice, _God_, her voice—he wouldn't forget that small quaking sound for the rest of his life.

"Th…They _will_ hurt them?" Bella choked out after a lapse of silence, not meeting his eyes.

Edward swallowed painfully. "Ruthlessly," he confirmed. "Just the notion of going against them is offence enough to the Volturi."

Bella nodded, her head cradled between her knees on her old dilapidated mattress. Edward expected she would be sick soon.

Edward's knees gave out and he slid to the floor in sympathy. There was only one way he was going to leave the room; after hours of contemplation he'd only come up with one. He was sickeningly resolute that he would have to betray her to survive the separation, to make it out of her room with both of them somewhat alive.

"Bell—" he faltered. It hurt so terribly in the place where his heart was meant to be lifeless that he was nearly breathless. He inhaled deeply, using Bella's sweet scent to steel himself.

"I love you. I will love you for eternity," he muttered and her sudden sob struck him like knife in his gut.

His voice nearly didn't return. "When I said those things to you before leaving those months ago I was half expecting you to see through it, especially when I was already half mad with my passion for you. So there is only one last thing I'll ask of you," he pressed on before the crushing weight on his chest became life threatening, "Believe it when I say this will ruin me, and trust that when I refuse to leave your shadow it's because to do otherwise would destroy me."

Something soft crashed into him from his side and it wasn't until he looked down that he realized Bella was clutching to him, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. He stained her again as he clasped her chin and kissed her, crucifying her with his weakness.

Bella had held doubts before of their relationship, bitter words he'd first offered to her for salvation, and in a brutish blow he'd taken them and crushed her along with himself. To save himself, he had stolen all her resentment and had enough monstrosity left to request she allow him to stay like a constant curse at her side while she was made to pretend they had never existed.

They spent the last hour of their relationship wound around each other, averting their gazes. As he was leaving, he placed her on the bed, facing away from the window. One last kiss, this one to her temple, and he was running through the forest.

He spent the rest of the night hunting, astonished that vampires couldn't drown in blood.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\

"_**Still alive and kicking, Potter? Guess I've lost a few chunks too many, eh? Those bastard goblins are making me pen this, know it's the only reason I'm wasting valuable time while I could be fighting another prancing costume fairy. I don't give a buggering fuck what you do with my lot or my rotting corpse; burn it, use it for kindle, or go dancing with it when you've got your fancy, pretty-boy knickers in a twist. **_

_**Now piss off and teach those bleeding maggots a thing or two!"**_

"This is Alastor Moody's will and testament?" Harry Potter asked Griphook weakly, half disturbed and oddly touched by the words on the parchment. It had taken months after gaining back control of their bank for Gringotts to execute the thousands of wills left by the many that had died in the war. A year ago, a disarmed Moody had deliberately taken Antonin Dolohov with him when he plunged to his death from the Hogwarts' Astronomy tower. And the old bastard left everything he had to Harry, more out of grudging respect than anything else.

The small, severe goblin bored into his eyes, as if deciding what Harry meant by his tone. "There are three properties," he continued neutrally. "The first is his home in Glasgow, there is a flat in Staffordshire, and an unlisted property in Washington, United States. He favored the ambient magic there."

Harry perused the notes on the last property with keen interest, noting the strange name: Forks.

Griphook cleared his throat. "There are other matters to attend to as well, pertaining to your defeat of one Tom Riddle three months ago. The International Council of Magic had placed an award on his execution and international policy mandates that when a threat arises which endangers the security, anonymity, and safety of the joined wizarding population, then all established ruling bodies must contribute to a war fund—which happens to include payroll for all of the military forces. Having been the key commander as well as the sole defeater of the Dark Lord and hundreds of his followers at-"

"Please get to the point," Harry cut in coldly, rubbing the line between his brows.

"Moving on," Griphook continued, stopping abruptly, and his lip curling in disdain towards the whining pram to Harry's left. He continued regardless, "As a result, the amount of currency in you vault has increased exponentially, and will continue to do so with your monthly pensions. We would like the authority to move it to a more secure level of clearance. Though we would likely keep personal artifacts in the one you have now."

Harry sighed, nodding.

"On that note," Griphook pressed forward, attempting to ignore the sound that was steadily becoming more insistent, "Arthur and Molly Weasley have left you a few heirlooms as well as some rather unusual Muggle devices. And we have already placed the personal artifacts and journals of the late Mrs. Ginevra Weasley Potter in the vault you have established for your daugh- "

Harry's sour expression instantly softened as the whining pram started wail. "Excuse me, she's just hungry." Summoning the bottle of his daughter's milk, Harry uncovered her and lifted the baby up from the navy-blue pram, securing her in his arms as he sat back down. At nine months, his Lily was already gripping the bottle so that all he had to do was balance it over her mouth.

The baby had Ginny's dainty nose and dimpled cheeks, but Harry had given her his emerald eyes and dark hair, as well as-Ron claimed-her rather reclusive nature. As far as infants went, Lily had always been very quiet, even after Harry had saved his newborn from the burning ruins of the Burrow. Ginny had secured her in the attic under the protection of the family ghoul while the Dementors descended on the Burrow.

There'd been no corpses left to bury once Harry had tracked down the Death Eaters responsible. It was then, barely eight months ago, that Ron and Hermione had stepped out of the war with their young daughter Rose, taking care of Lily as Harry led his army to slaughter. Some days, Harry wondered if it was the only reason his closest friends were still alive today.

The memories settled over him at once, rapidly wearing him down to a migraine; not that the obsessive security and contained magic running through Gringotts wasn't already making his overly sensitive body weary with restraint. Magic tingled under the tips of his fingers, exhausting his body with an excess of unreleased power.

"Perhaps we will continue this at a later date, Griphook suggested, eyeing his daughter as if she was bound to spit up on his polished desk at any second. "It would be best for you to deliver this parcel from Rubeus Hagrid, as his Will instructed of its return to your godfather Sirius Black. You are living with him, yes?"

"I'll do that," Harry assured him, grabbing the small wooden box offered to him and shrinking it into his pocket with a wave of his wand. The tip of his holly wand sparked as Harry cut off the flow of magic, as if his power was already threatening to burst from invisible seams.

"Da-ba-ba-fa!" Lily squealed, slamming her bottle down repeatedly on the desk in to a fit of baby giggles.

"My thoughts exactly, love," he responded with a cautious half-grin, seeing the horror on Griphook's face at the droplets of milk now splattered across his desk.

Tactless, Harry used that moment to forget he was a wizard, choosing his sleeve to wipe at them, smiling nervously when the drops became sticky white smudges against the polish. Lily joined him in the task, her dribble landing in long gooey streaks around Harry's attempts and it was that which prompted Harry to hope that goblins didn't have the capacity for aneurisms.

Griphook was visibly twitching.

"I think I'm just gonna go, then?" Harry tried pleasantly.

Griphook had the grace to keep his expression at a mere grimace.

Harry stood abruptly, knocking his chair to the floor. Griphook was semi-successful in muffling an undignified squeak. Lily only made things worse, squirming in his arms as he tried to juggle a diaper bag and a bulky pram out the modest office. It took two more dents in the goblin's desk before Griphook physically tore the pram from his fumbling hands and shoved it and them out the door.

Harry was still befuddled when a crowd a hundred strong came rushing towards him. It was pure instinct that had him shielding his startled baby in his coat. Reporters greedily rose to their heels for photographs of the 'hero' out and about with his infant daughter. The flashes were blinding, but Harry knew better than to keep his expression anything but neutral.

It was a lesson he had learned in the last week, when an angry retort to a pushy reporter had earned the caption of being the "Dangerously Devastated Hero." The public panic that followed had nearly destroyed his efforts to reinstate the Ministry of Magic.

A bony hand curled around his wrist. "This way, Mr. Potter!" a goblin called out. The tellers had all but abandoned their posts, furiously scurrying to keep reporters away from him. Heedless, the crowd overtook the furious little creatures and tugged at him for attention. It took his daughter wailing in fright for Harry to cast a low powered blasting charm, clearing a path for him to make it to the exit and Apparate.

Harry sighed miserably after getting home, uncurling a fist to soothe his sobbing daughter instead.

He'd been thinking of an escape from the madness for a very long time, but it wasn't until seeing Moody's notes on one of his homes that he felt he'd come across a plausible location. He leaned against the door of his London flat as he contemplated whether it would count as abandoning his people.

It hadn't been his intention to become such a symbol of prosperity and recovery to the very afraid wizarding populace, not in the least. Harry had declined the seat of Minister of Magic in the hope of someday receding into the background again, after all. But he couldn't keep putting Lily last, and he could afford even less to let their constant demands on him push him to resent them all.

Forks, United States, would have to be his only solution. He'd have to contact Hermione and Ron to get things moving. Harry could only hope Forks was truly small enough to be an escape from his newfound cataclysmic celebrity.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Dereliction**

_Also Rewritten June 2011!_**  
**

**Warning:** This WILL BE SLASH, and has a M rating at that, meaning males will be engaged in a sexual relationship. There will also be strong language and swearing. An M rating implies adult situations inappropriate for a younger audience, which there will be plenty of. Please heed the warnings.

**(oldish A/N:) **I was astounded to see so many people interested in this fic, and I apologize for not responding to all the wonderful reviews you guys left for me sooner. I'm attempting a double major right now and writing just happens to be my stress reliever. Please review, I'll be thrilled to hear all of your thoughts or impressions.

Harry went down into his training room, leaning against the wall as he caught sight of two men flinging curses at each other. Sirius Black arched back to avoid a Stunner, shooting a silent disarming spell.

"_Levestio_!" Kingsley Shacklebolt shouted, cutting through the air with his wand just as he deflected another stunner.

With a careless wave of his own wand, Sirius put up a shield, moving forward as he performed a hex that charged a trail of fire towards the newest Minister of Magic. Both reached a momentary ceasefire. By their panting Harry could tell they had likely been at it for hours.

"You do realize that this is my flat, right?" Harry asked futilely.

Kingsley had the gall to appear surprised at his presence. "Harry! How was your rare public outing?" he asked in his smooth, deep voice.

Harry scowled at his choice of words. "God awful. I visited St. Mungos and I'm fairly certain I was just sexually molested by a group of elderly witches."

Sirius made a very strange sound, covering up a bark of laughter with an excessive bout of coughs.

It wasn't funny in the least. If murdering Voldemort meant that he could never again get a moment of peace... Things hadn't let up in the least since his appointment with Griphook last week. It was insanity whenever he stuck so much as a toe out his door, and his daughter was in danger of believing that there was no world beyond his bloody flat.

"I heard a rather interesting rumor today, Harry," the head of the ministry started teasingly.

"Ah, so Ron blurted it out, did he?" Harry returned flatly.

Kingsley smiled. "I'm not here to dissuade you…I did hear Mad Eye once found a Muggle location across the pond with very interesting qualities. The old codger used it when he was on loan to the Americans back in my academy days. He wasn't quite as mad then and he still managed to decimate our public relations with the Yanks for two whole decades."

Harry tried not to cringe at just how much he was aware of the fact. He had been pushed to forge Moody's belated note of apology for calling the American general a "preening nancy" (among other colorful "_critiques_") before the other country would even consider allying with Britain against Voldemort.

"The city is a living snare against attacks; Moody himself found a way to incorporate some of the more potent ambient magic back in the La Push hills into his property wards." Harry contemplated hexing the minister when he caught the other man flipping through a rather familiar notepad, one that Harry had left in his desk that morning under heavy locking charms.

"Yes, I did stumble across your notes." Kingsley pointed to a gaping hole in his shoe, the dragon hide punctured by only one of the knives Harry had charmed to keep his work _private_. "Sources tell me your decision is sound?" the Minister continued cheekily.

Harry glared him down. "So, you visited Hermione to see how I've formulated my decision," he cut in dryly.

"Now…really, Harry, you know how I get curious. And as a dear friend, not to mention your natural superior in the Auror office, I have no concerns some other diplomat is going to sweep you away. The reason I'm here is because I am quite positive you are in danger of becoming the town recluse. With your mental welfare in mind, I have devised a more secure plan to help you adjust to this hiatus."

Harry glared at his roundabout manner.

"Given I did tell you a year ago that if you took that bastard down I'd give you one hell of a vacation," Kingsley continued. "So, in the interest of making sure you are enjoying yourself to the fullest extent, I have decided to immerse you in the dramatic joy of public education."

Kingsley hopped down from the dueling platform. "Luckily enough, the town chief and the school board have got it in their heads that a self defense class should be made mandatory for all students at Forks high school, why it's almost like magic how they decided all at once," Kingsley said nonchalantly, clapping his hands together with enthusiasm. "It also occurs that one Harry Potter will eventually cave in to his superior officer and apply for the post, citing an intense background in combat from Lady Britain herself."

He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Harry!"

By now, Harry was glowering full on. Kingsley wisely chose to keep all of his appendages attached and removed his hand. After another pause, Kingsley elected to return to his post on the dueling stage.

"You really think I can pass for a Muggle?" Harry asked gruffly, removing his traveling cloak and climbing up the dueling stage. Sirius immediately scrambled to the other side, raising his wand next to Kingsley's. Both of them were master duelers at their best. Naturally, his own holly wand was practically singing with anticipation. He lazily flicked it towards the two men, who strained to raise a shield together, sliding back a few feet as they struggled to keep it up.

Kingsley clenched his teeth in effort. "Of course, just clean yourself up a bit, and try not to expose that," here the man blatantly leered, "rather impressive physique."

"And you should let me chop that dated mane off of your head," Sirius added once he determined the homicidal edge to his godson had ebbed.

Harry ignored them. "And I suppose they'll allow infants into the school?" The silent '_Expelliarmus_!' he sent shattered both of their shields and had their fingernails clutching at the very end of their wands. "_Auguamenti_!" Harry called, knocking his two opponents down with a powerful jet of water.

Spluttering, Kingsley answered, "They do offer daycare at the nearby primary school; I'll have a team down there to ward the place at the drop of the hat."

Transfiguring the water into writhing snakes, Harry spoke again, "I'm not leaving my daughter with strangers all day."

"You could shave a few classes off so you get out sooner—I'm sure you can forge a few documents to get that to happen. A half day isn't so bad," Sirius offered, muttering a vanishing spell under his breath at the snakes before casting a bludgeoning curse at his godson. "Be honest, Harry, you don't even know how to go on a proper holiday. You'll drive yourself up the wall if you feel no immediate purpose for threatening that city's safety; I know you."

The spell disappeared within a foot from Harry's conjured shield. Harry exhaled heavily, knowing his godfather was right. "Lily stays with me the entire day, no secret guard trailing me, a private Floo connection, and international permits for apparation. And all the documents are to be filed by the legal channels of the higher security offices, so if my information is leaked I'll know who's responsible."

Kingsley licked his lips, grinning when Harry rolled his eyes. "Agreed." He grimaced when Harry's stinging spell hit him straight in the chest, a network of raised welts rising from his skin.

"Do you two happen to be practicing some kind of covert masochism; your collective efforts so far have been dreadful." Harry was itching to let loose and they both seemed frustratingly intent on not focusing.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you, Harry," Kingsley purred.

"I'd wish you'd two get a grip with that," Sirius cut in exasperation, "my libido is practically screaming depravity at this point."

"If you give up pinning for someone like a befuddled schoolgirl, you'd realize there's a rapidly expanding line of takers all around you," Kingsley shot back.

"I've no clue what you're on about," the animagus responded tightly.

Kingsley chuckled. Eyes brightening with excitement, he and Sirius advanced on Harry with perfect synchronization in their spell work. Two steps, Sirius cast a torrent of curses in one direction, three seconds, and Kingsley rapidly shot five Stunners where Harry had just Apparated from. Sirius laughed, throwing up his shirt; by the time it was down on the floor, there had been four pops of disapparation, six Blasting spells, the singed smell of several articles of clothing, and Kingsley had somehow ended up with his hands knotted to Sirius's boots.

Catching his breath, Harry helped them up. His clothing was slightly blackened but his skin was unscathed.

Harry grinned.

"Isn't it splendid," Kingsley chimed, "our little hero requires two-more than formidable duelers-if I do say so myself-just to get him panting."

Sirius leveled a glare at him. "You sure have loosened up, haven't you, Kingsley?"

Kingsley grinned. "I merely feel obligated as one of Harry Potter's select friends to visit regularly so that he can remember what human contact is like."

Harry growled at the usual allusion to having had the same people as friends since he was fifteen (no matter if it was actually true). "I get that signed Roselbie card Ron's been hounding over for ages when I make new friends in time for the summer holidays," Harry offered grudgingly.

"And if you don't?" Kingsley asked.

"I'll attend that bloody ministry ball this year."

"Done," Kingsley called out immediately. Harry tried not to pay attention to the triumphant expression on the other man's face, feeling like he'd just been led by the nose.

"Do see your way out," he said with feigned irritability. "Oh, and Kingsley?

The minister paused on his way to the door.

Harry smiled. "Say hello to your girlfriend for me, will you?" Vance had asked him the other day to warn her if he ever got fed up with the Minister's harmless flirtations. It didn't bother him in the least; on rare occasions he even considered himself fortunate to be on joking terms with such a respectable man.

Kingsley laughed raucously the entire way out.

"A bit too many concussions, I'd say," Sirius commented, pulling on his shirt.

Sitting on the dueling platform, Harry waited until Sirius joined him. "I'm sorry."

Sirius chuckled. "Are you confessing to being the cause of some of those concussions?"

"You know what I meant." Harry frowned.

"Yes, unfortunately you seem to think I wasn't aware that our little holiday had to be spent doing some menial and useful do-gooder job." Sirius bumped their shoulders together. "I'm an ex-convict and I died once, so I suppose I'll just have to allow you your little quirks."

"How considerate of you," Harry chided quietly.

A hand ruffled his hair good-naturedly. "Please don't look so guilty for needing this, Harry. They can get by without you for a little while, even Granger assured you of that."

"It's not just Ron and Hermione; the public doesn't believe in Kingsley enough to keep them safe, politics haven't stabilized enough to keep Voldemort's remaining lackeys from infiltrating the system and crushing what remains of Britain, and were so behind in reconstruction you can still smell corpses rotting under the rubble of Diagon Alley; Hogwarts; _and_ St. Mungos." Harry sighed heavily.

"They'll call on you if things get dire, you know that," Sirius stressed.

"It still feels like I'm betraying them on a selfish whim."

"Lily isn't some passing fancy. Your daughter needs you to be her father now, not the distanced hero that visits on weekends."

"I just…" Harry sighed.

"I might be your burden to make choices that no one else has to, but there comes a time when you need to stop sacrificing your needs and those of your family to the greater good." Sirius lips brushed his ear as he whispered. "Though I may not be the best authority on the matter… I may not have been a traitor, Harry, but I'm so far from a saint I can't blame my own lover for believing I would kill my best friend to save my ailing little brother." Sirius laughed darkly.

"And that's why I trust only you to care for my family in my stead. So don't suddenly feign being self depreciative on me, Sirius Black. " Harry touched the side of his face, peering into the other man's eyes with bitterness. "You'll go to any length to protect them."

"Before this war you might have never considered my obscenities strengths," Sirius shot back, standing.

"You think I've grown cold?" Harry asked calmly.

Sirius looked away. "It's been years since you did that handy piece of spell work to get me out from the veil and I still haven't seen you look at ease for even a blink. You're always restless."

Harry observed a paint chip in the far wall. "You look at me sometimes as if I'd died."

"Can you call this perversion to existence living, Harry? We're swapping sins just to enable each other pass this nightmare. You manipulate in the name of goodness and I brandish my selfishness for the sake of keeping our family alive. Our dysfunctional influences only work because everything else has been desecrated. "

"Isn't it still gratifying, though?" Harry responded, suddenly wary.

"Yes. Even if somewhere along the way I've admitted to myself that I've needed you far more than you ever did me."

Harry swallowed. "Sirius, I need you to use any means necessary to get Moony to come with us," he stated firmly.

The older man froze. He gauged at Harry's steeled expression before smiling shakily. "So certain I won't refuse when you know what that'll cost me?" Sirius chided half playfully.

"You'll do it."

"To accrue a new member to our dysfunctional little duo; I'm not so certain Remus is that desperate," Sirius insisted.

Harry eyed Sirius carefully. "Teddy does need us. That'll be enough."

"Your intent is to play matchmaker and help Remus back to his feet."

"You both have needs, and if Remus can meet his before the new Council for Creature Legislation elects a new representative next year then everyone wins," he reasoned. Harry knew the werewolf would do well on the council.

"Not for the bloody greater good," Sirius whined.

"You'll still do it."

"Oh, shut it already!" his godfather shot him a half-hearted glare.

"You know, nobody can resist the capable charm of _Witch's Weekly's_ Wizard of the Millennia?" Harry transfigured a newspaper stuffed into his robes to the magazine in question, kissing his own image on the cover. The magazine burst into flames soon after.

The animagus put his wand away. "You're worst than Kingsley in a good mood."

"It is with deepest regrets that I deny you my undying love," he continued theatrically, dodging Sirius' stinging spell, "for I hold loyalty to a friend that is just at the brink of realizing the allure of his old flame."

Sirius whacked him upside the head with the charred remains of the magazine, showering him in ashes.

"Anyway," Harry scowled as he rubbed at his scalp, "I have several things to do tonight; are you going out?"

"I'm not sure. Life's gone a bit stagnant—I can't even take the bike out since we've got reporters wrapped around the bend. Not that I don't mind to deliver a good shot or two on a good day…"

"You don't have bad days, Sirius," Harry reminded him sourly. While the man had come out of the veil looking the same way he had in Harry's fifth year, being free for years had now restored his chiseled jaw, piercing gray eyes, and dark shaggy locks to their former glory.

"You'd clean up just fine, if you let me get at you," Sirius laughed, gesturing at Harry's messy mop. "Oh and perhaps I'll stop by Remus' place, on the off chance that I can actually seduce him into a life of morale and all that," he said sarcastically

"Right. Try to find a way to replace Remus' ruddy old chest; I don't think it can survive the trip otherwise," Harry delivered drily on his way out.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Sirius watched Harry walk away, grabbing the Floo powder and throwing it at the fire.

"Hello?" He called out to the modest living room. A small boy scurried behind the couch. "Teddy, it's just me, kiddo." He was rewarded when the five-year-old hesitantly peeked out. "Ah, there you are. Is your papa home?"

The boy nodded.

"Can you get him for me?"

Without a word, Teddy ran from the room, dragging his father in not a minute later, wearing nothing but a bathing robe. Soap suds dripped down onto the carpet.

"Sirius?" Remus folded his arms across his waist when Sirius' gaze swept down his body, focusing on his long, muscular legs. He cleared his throat. "Come through, seeing your head floating like that is a bit disturbing, given your previous death."

"I'm sorry to call like this, Remus," Sirius said, stepping out into the werewolf's dim sitting room. Reaching out, Teddy grabbed the back of his shirt as Remus lead him down a narrow hallway and into a bedroom.

A cloud of steam drifted out of a connecting bathroom and Remus disappeared inside after motioning for Sirius to sit on his bed. The animagus swallowed, trying not to pay any attention to fact that his ex-lover was finishing his shower in the next room.

A drawing was shoved in his face, and a little finger pointed to a stick figure with two long lines drawn for hair. He could guess by the fact that a harsh red line slashed across the figure's neck that it was meant to be him.

"It hurts?" Teddy asked in a quiet voice, prodding the raised scar marring Sirius' neck, tracing its path down his jaw and over the jugular. The child jerked away when the potent silver still impregnated in the old wound shimmered under his touch. The curse that'd made it had nearly taken his life. And Teddy had witnessed the entire horror unfold; it had traumatized him to the point that he desperately shrunk away from any contact with strangers. Sirius couldn't imagine what Tonks' last moments had been like as she fought to keep her son from getting abducted by Voldemort's lackeys. If Sirius hadn't made it in time to take the curse for Remus, Teddy would've witnessed the gruesome death of both his parents.

"No, it doesn't hurt," he answered softly.

"Why are you here, Sirius?" Remus called out from the other room.

"It's Harry." Sirius took a deep breath—he had no real right to do this. Remus had made it quite clear that he wanted nothing to do with him. "I have a bad feeling that he's been up to something. Now that he's-"

"What would you like me to do?" the werewolf interrupted him, shutting off the tap.

"You're coming with us to Forks." He could hear when the rustling of clothing stopped at his pronouncement.

Remus emerged fully dressed just as Teddy climbed into his lap. Sirius knew he had Remus as soon as the little boy rested his head against his chest. His old friend instantly dropped his gaze. There were only three people Teddy trusted implicitly, and that included his father, Harry, and Sirius. With them gone, even if what he'd said about Harry's worrying state of mind hadn't been an issue, Teddy wouldn't know how to interpret their absence.

The bed dipped as Remus settled down next to his son, running a hand through his mousy brown hair. "Harry already offered."

"I know."

"I'm worried about Harry, too," Remus admitted after a moment. "There is far too much pressure on him all the time, as if he has to be perfectly composed at every moment or he fails the expectations of millions."

Sirius nodded. "I can't endure the thought of having seen him through the end of this war just to lose him." It was a half truth. Thanks to his stint in Azkaban, Sirius had always reasoned that as long as Harry wasn't practicing the art of noose tying or perfecting his vibrato for a lead in the Weird Sisters, he would stay relatively sane in his book. In fact, as long as Harry remained as unflinchingly loyal to his friends as he had always been, the kid could raise hell and dabble in necromancy without so much as stirring up Sirius's "concern."

Loyalty was the only measure of devotion Sirius knew to never be transient once it was honestly achieved. Love, sanity, goodness, independence could be corrupted to swallowed lies within the midst of darkness.

They were destitute and defeated men, nothing save for loyalty could be trusted—not even cruelty.

A light touch to his cheek startled Sirius from his musings. He gasped as scarred fingers ghosted over his skin, straining to keep from leaning into the touch. This was an instance of Remus' cruelty; to test Sirius' motivations for requesting Remus both in his heart and in his allegiance to stay at Harry's side. And while his want would be evident to Remus, to allow such a thing to distract him from Harry's plight would be a breach of their silent pact. "We have an audience," he forced out, gently taking Remus' hand in his own and stopping its motion.

Teddy blinked innocently between them, no doubt attempting to work out why his daddy and _best friend_ had ceased their conversation.

Remus' expression revealed nothing of his prior actions. Though most would equate Remus with kindness and warmth, the chill of his poker face had always stunned Sirius. The werewolf could conjure utter aloofness in ways that had always grated at the animagus' nerves. Sirius was simpler, self assured, and the only being on earth that unsettled Sirius, that could send him over towards lunacy was the self-conscious and decidedly brilliant love of his life.

Tentatively, the animagus threaded his fingers through the other man's. "I think a change of scenery will be healthy for you three. And I know your financial situation is precarious at best." Remus couldn't work because of Teddy, and with no income, his savings were rapidly depleting.

Remus looked down at their connected hands before his gaze fell on Sirius' marred neck. The sudden tension in the werewolves' fingers depicted resentment with the same tortured fortitude that they conveyed love. Sirius swallowed painfully with the brunt of it.

There were far too many transgressions he'd committed against Remus to name.

"I won't go, if that's what it takes," Sirius offered softly.

The werewolf removed his hand, looking considerably irritated at his words.

Sirius hated it. Despised the hateful Remus as much as he reveled in the ease in which he could identify with him.

"What do you think, Teddy? Would you like us to go away with Uncle Harry and Sirius?"

Sirius grinned despite the raging regret when the small boy nodded furiously.

If Sirius had been born a purer man he could have argued with Harry that both of them were too fucked up and half mad to host a civil love, but Sirius was a Black, and by definition inherently twisted and he had no intention of ever letting the werewolf free again.

His chest tightened when Remus smiled ruefully back at him, the feral glint in his eyes telling.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Harry took a deep breath, collecting himself before knocking.

The door was thrown open, Ron looking over his shoulder before pulling him inside. "Bit of a warning, mate, Hermione's going spare over you…driving me barmy it is." His long time friend gave him a push towards their sitting room, as if feeding him to the wolves. A little body slammed into the back of his knees soon after.

"Uncle Harry!" Rose was three, intelligent, and generally always right. She knew it, too.

Producing a Cauldron cake from his pocket, Harry patted his godchild's red hair before secretly giving her the sweet. Ron whined, sticking his hand out from behind his back and Harry quickly gave him a bag of sweets. Hermione's parents were coming the next day, and she always discarded anything even remotely unhealthy into the rubbish bin before they arrived. This tended to include most of Ron's favorite foods.

"Honestly, Harry, would it hurt to groom yourself a bit?" Hermione bristled, kissing Lily.

"Seriously, you're looking a bit rogue these days," Ron agreed, making a face at Lily and prying Rose from the back of his best friend's knees.

"Digs at my appearance aside, how's the shop going, Ron?" Harry broke in. Ron had joined George in his rapidly expanding business. He was very good at marketing strategies, something that had once fallen to Fred, rest his soul.

"Amazing, we've almost got all the contracts in for the Dublin location. And Owl orders are through the roof." The red head stuffed a banger in his mouth when his wife gave him a pointed look.

"You are such a coward, Ron." Hermione appeared annoyed, watching Harry as he settled down on the couch with Lily in his lap."

"Harry," Hermione started carefully, "have you given any more thought to your plans to mov-"

"Yes, I'm leaving very soon." He folded Lily's tiny hands in his, standing her up as if she was the one speaking. Lily giggled.

This completely disarmed Hermione, who smiled. She sighed. "We just don't want you to march off and forget about us."

"You guys are family," Harry made Lily mime blowing kisses. She went into baby hysterics and Harry couldn't help but grin at his daughter. "Look guys, I'm not trying to abandon you, it's just…I don't want this crazy hero-worship environment for Lily, just as Dumbledore didn't want it for me."

Lily's green eyes looked expectantly at him, waiting for his next game. He lifted her in the air to indulge her, giving her a kiss when he brought her back down. "Uncle Ron and Auntie Hermione will always be around, love," he sung to her softly. When he looked back up, Ron and Hermione were smiling, looking appallingly emotional. Harry cringed.

Ron scratched the back of his neck while Hermione wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "You really are amazing, Harry. By all rights you should have ended up…" his best friend drifted off, leaving the words unsaid. All of them already knew how war broke people; the psych ward of St. Mungos was brimming with a quarter of their generation.

Harry averted his gaze, shifting in his seat. "I'll do alright there," he continued, changing the subject, "and I'll just have Kingsley give you three international permits so that we can see each other all the time, I promise. Even if it's just the Floo."

Seeing that he was getting up to leave, Hermione enveloped him in a hug. "We love you."

"Yeah, what she said," Ron added, giving him a manly shove.

"Likewise," Harry confirmed. He hugged his niece. "Till next time, Rosie... Try to keep your dad out of trouble, will you?"

She gave him a put upon sigh. "Okay…"

Harry laughed when Ron punched him lightly.

And then all that was left was silence and heaviness, and their goodbyes hung between them with uncomfortable finality.

Ron cleared his throat. "I heard from the orderlies…how often you go—"

Don't," Harry warned under his breath, trying to stay levelheaded, "don't you dare bring that up now." It was too fresh, that unnamable wound, too sharp. Though Ron had every right to his opinion on the matter…

"Please, Ron," Hermione pleaded within the escalating tension.

Ron reddened, but spoke as if determined to justify his own distress, "She's gone," his voice rose with bitterness, "legally, physically, she can't even realize how hard you're clinging to her, Harry. Let her go, please just stop stirring it up all over again!"

Ron flew back against the wall, and Harry hardly felt Hermione's spells ricochet off his back as he fisted his hands to control his anger. "You don't ever say that to me," Harry said coldly, hardly noticing when Ron clutched at his neck as if trying to pry invisible hands loose. Harry stilled completely when he felt a small hand tug at his robes.

"No, Uncle Harry, stop," Rose said firmly, her brown eyes mercifully free of fear.

"Oh, gods," he whispered under his breath, watching his best friend crumble to his knees, gasping for air. Worse yet, he'd been holding his own daughter the whole time. Lily appeared startled, though she still fussed when he passed her to Hermione, away from the familiar safety of her father's arms. "I'm so sorry," he said softly, turning on his foot to walk out the door.

Ron caught his arm on the porch, "Wait! Harry, no one's hurt. You didn't even _consciously_ do a spell against me!"

"That doesn't excuse the fact that I lost control of my emotions like that; it's completely inexcusable." Harry pulled his arm free just to have Ron snatch it up again.

"You're allowed your moments of humanity, just like everyone else. Would you quit struggling and listen!" his friend shouted. "I'm the one who should apologize…I shouldn't have said all that— I just can't get over the feeling that I've failed somehow," his voice cracked, exacerbated by how his actions had just distanced them more, " that I should've done more, that I shouldn't have crumbled and left you to carry everything on your own. I don't know…maybe if I could save you from your own bloody selflessness-"

"You don't have to do anything," Harry asserted. Hermione came up behind her husband and placed Lily back in Harry's arms. Her somber gaze penetrated his. "We just don't want to leave you stranded anymore," Hermione said in a tight voice, making a move to touch Harry.

With a detached air, he moved away from their comfort and apologies. "My daughter is alive, and both of you are still here; that is more than enough." He cleared his throat. "Like I said, I'm owed nothing else." Harry took a step back into the shadows as Ron's jaw trembled with emotion. "I should go," he said firmly, clutching Lily to his chest as he left his friends in the illuminated safety of their home.

Days later, Harry created a Portkey to America.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Forks was a tiny smudge on the outskirts of Washington. It was wet, muggy, and was nearly always under a blanket of thick, billowy clouds. Mad Eye's four-bedroom Cape Cod was well out of sight, miles in obscurity at the foot of steep cliffs. It nearly had enough Wards and Muggle confounding charms to put Hogwarts to shame.

"I feel ridiculous," Harry said. They were leaning against their rental, awaiting the chief of police, Charlie Swan, to escort them through Forks high school. Harry self-consciously ran a hand through his newly cut hair. It was long enough to settle his disheveled locks slightly, but short enough to feel light—nothing could really be done to stop his stubborn mop from looking permanently mussed, however.

"You look smashing," Sirius countered.

"My jeans are too tight," Harry bit out, pulling at the crotch of his pants.

"Inane question: why are you wearing them if you find them so uncomfortable?" Remus cut in.

"Unfortunately, all his clothing spontaneously combusted," Sirius explained lightly.

"You set my dresser on fire! I've got no other alternative now but the shite you bought me."

Remus smirked at that, meeting Sirius' grin.

Incredulous, Harry intercepted the werewolf's gaze. "You're just as bad as he is. Teddy, you're on my side, right?"

Teddy shook his head, grabbing Sirius' hand. And it was only then that Harry realized how stiff his godson was. He'd grown so accustomed to people gawking at him that he hadn't noticed that the entire school had come to a standstill. The teens weren't even attempting to disguise their staring.

Growing up in Little Winging had made Harry very aware of how gossip festered in the event of newcomers. It had been to avoid prejudgments that he'd left the arranging of his house to the goblins at Gringotts, and with the exception of the town chief and the school officials, no one had so much as heard of their names.

Lily, too, sensed the commotion around them and reached out for him. Lifting her up from Remus' arms, Harry enveloped his daughter protectively.

"Harry," Remus called out suddenly, his body alert as he discreetly placed his body between his son and the rest of the school. Giving his daughter to Sirius, Harry went before them, pretending to tie the shoelaces of his trainers as he scanned for danger.

"Vampires, I can smell them," the werewolf explained uneasily.

A Volvo rounded the entrance to the car park, screeching to a halt in a space four across from their position. A small girl that reminded Harry of whimsical Luna Lovegood with her large, round eyes, was the first to emerge from the vehicle. She gracefully hopped to the curve with understated agility, turning back towards the car to watch a male step out, grabbing his school books. The girl said something to her companion before walking off. Finally realizing that a large portion of the school population was fixed in Harry position, the male looked dispassionately their way before continuing on into the school.

"Did you see their eyes?" Harry asked.

"Topaz, not red, which means they have nothing to do with us," Remus concluded.

"I agree. They didn't even recognize you, Harry," Sirius added, turning to watch a police cruiser finally arrive on the grounds.

By the look of it, the students likely fancied they were about to be arrested, so it was with great shock that they received the chief of police climbing from his car and shaking Harry's hand. Charlie seemed a no-nonsense type of guy, his expression serious as he took in Harry's formidable presence.

"Pleasure to welcome you folks to Forks, Mr. Potter," he said. "The name's Charlie."

"Harry, please," Harry responded cordially, noting the man's slight frown. "I'm not what you expected."

"No," Charlie Swan agreed. "When they said you were twenty-one… well, I expected some kid, really. You're all a bit overqualified for the job, to be honest, and to come to this little town of ours…"

"We discovered that an old friend of mine owned a property here at a time that we needed a quieter environment for the children," Harry supplied.

Charlie didn't prod more; instead he nodded respectably before greeting Sirius and Remus. Teddy hid his face in Remus' shirt at the same time that Lily watched quietly from where her head rested on the crook of Sirius' shoulder.

"If you'll excuse me, chief, I'm suddenly famished," Harry announced.

"Harry, where are you going?" Sirius asked, shifting so that Harry could give his daughter a kiss. "Daddy's just going to eat some breakfast." He applied a scent concealing charm to the many magical defenses he already had on her and Teddy, not willing to take his chances.

"You already ate," Sirius commented, though his tone indicated that he knew it was a lost cause.

"You should set up the gym for the first class," Harry responded over his shoulder, fitting his hands in his jeans.

Remus sighed and Harry heard him mutter, "It's exhausting, how impulsive he is."

Locating the male vampire in the crowded school building was a breeze, as everyone seemed to unconsciously orbit away from the male, their bodies reading danger that didn't quite register with their thoughts. No one got too close, and they didn't even seem to realize that they were doing it. Moving quickly through the throng of students, Harry fixed his face to appear flustered and lost, grabbing the hem of the vampire's sleeve. "You'll help me find the dining hall, won't you?"

The vampire looked down at where he was being touched, and Harry removed his hand as soon as the tracking charm was in place.

"Show me?" he asked smoothly, searching for any slight nuances in the vampire's expression. The male looked…well, he was obscenely attractive. Veela popped to mind when you took in his glossy bronze hair, his sculpted musculature, and features like an advanced Glamour had exploded on his face. Being a wizard you learned pretty quickly that if something was shiny or pretty it usually equated peril.

At Harry's request, the topaz eyes swept pointedly across the busy hall.

"Precisely why I'm asking you; you're the only person so determined to be disinterested."

The vampire turned in a fluid movement, his only gesture to follow being the brief glare he sent in Harry's direction. Bloody antisocial prat… "Do you have to take the motorway to get to school?"

"It's called the interstate here. And no," the vampire said flatly a few minutes later-the first words he'd spoken.

Harry resisted the urge to hex him. So, the vampires must take the back roads, which meant he most likely lived in a secluded part of town like Harry—far off from the close-knit network of small homes neighboring the school.

"It's Edward, my name, since you were so polite to ask," the vampire got out, once they'd turned into the cafeteria.

Harry smirked at that, causing Edward to examine his expression with cool detachment. He still reluctantly took Harry's extended hand, allowing Harry to test if the vampire was wearing any Muggle lenses to disguise the color of his eyes.

He wasn't—Harry couldn't fathom why any blood-thirsty being would subject themselves to an unfulfilling diet of forest critters. Why would he elect such a choice and then subject himself to coexisting among people that'd think him a monster either way? Any way you looked at it, he had a role to play in their world, and no matter how hard he tried to conform, he would remain _unnatural_ to them.

One's own desires were hopeless against the brunt of such expectation.

Breaking himself from his musings, Harry pulled his hand away, relieved when the first bell rang a moment later.

"I'll see you in class, Edward," Harry said, maneuvering through a crowd of students. He was forced to turn around to hide his amusement, seeing the vampire suddenly freeze mid-step from his peripheral vision. Just under the vampire's shoe he had transfigured a gum wrapper into a clove of garlic. Edward looked around at the students, automatically discounting Harry, confirming his suspicion that the vampire had no idea that wizards even existed.

It seemed that his family was safe for the time being.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Chapter 3**

**Also Rewritten June 2011. Thanks to a few helpful reviewers I cleared up some confusing dialogue issues. **

**Warning:** _This WILL BE SLASH, and has a M rating at that, meaning males will be engaged in a sexual relationship. There will also be strong language and swearing. An M rating implies adult situations inappropriate for a younger audience, which there will be plenty of. Please heed the warnings._

**(oldish A/N:) **_Sorry for not updating sooner, you have no idea how much you reviewers motivate me. Life has been hectic since my last update. I've passed seven exams, been horribly ill for a week, gone through five novels and critiques, done a research project on literary criticism and its specific application, written four essays, done a written midterm, and have had more assignments than I can count. I'm just managing to breath and I'm just two days away from having to create an entire website for a course, juggling a tedious group project, and taking three exams. Needless to say, please forgive me if I can't respond to your review, though I'll appreciate it all the same. *wink* _

**Chapter 3**

School had just established itself as Edward's personal version of hell. The office had given him a schedule with an empty space for a class, the stranger who had pestered him had just walked away, and now—he wasn't quite sure how—a piece of _vegetation_ had just materialized right at his feet. How had he not noticed a whole garlic clove? To make matters worse, the whole school was so fixated on Forks' newest arrivals that it made reading their already shallow thoughts useless.

Repeating high school was painful enough without a garlic clove propelling itself to the role of a nagging mystery. He couldn't decide whether someone less prone to panic in the face of implausible events would react similarly to something so foolish.

Edward shuddered as he imagined Emmett playing hacky sack with the clove and writing it off to a botched lunch bag.

No, Edward had been watching his surroundings too diligently. He knew for a fact that the floor had been clear of any debris-sans a balled up Wrigley gum wrapper. Edward would have noticed a prankster toss something his way, or heard if a passing student had dropped anything. But the garlic clove had just materialized. And while he highly doubted Victoria was petty enough to nix her intricate plans to play a silly childish game with him, it was alarming to think that the only being who could pull such a switch under his nose was one faster than he was.

But that was stupid of him, really. For starters, the only creatures he could smell were Alice and himself and then the distinct lack of students lying dead on the linoleum was shocking to say the least.

The only heretical option left was that he was becoming a delusional vegetarian vampire with nonsensical instincts and a ridiculous case of psychosis.

Peachy, now he was becoming self-deprecating.

In a dull temper, Edward stalked away from the crowd, hardly regretting that the humans had reverted to treating him like some abstract object on display. He had only rounded the corner when he froze…

A familiar scent tore through his fabricated calm, leaving him braced against the lockers.

Bella was visibly restraining herself from looking at him as she passed. Her pale hands were clenched together and she faced forward in such a forced manner that it was heart wrenching to watch. Edward had never wanted so much to reach out, to confirm his existence in her world.

Mike Newton broke away from behind the group of seniors gathered around her and walked over to open the locker next to Edward. "No one expected you to ever show your face here after what you did to her," Mike Newton said with punctured tightness. The lock banged into place and Newton looked up at him, his blond brows drawn together in a manner of boyish disapproval. Edward was able to watch Bella turn into her classroom before Newton stepped directly into his line of vision. "Keep your distance, Cullen." Newton left after the minute bell echoed through the halls, and Edward sighed wearily, heading towards his first class.

In English, seated next to Alice, Edward drummed his pencil against the table top, contemplating how he should approach his question. Alice shot him a curious glance. "Have you encountered any random garlic cloves today?" he asked suddenly.

Her mental response made him inwardly cringe,_ 'Oh my god, he's lost it.' _Alice smiled at the board, jotting down the SAT words, if only to busy her hands as she laughed at his expense.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Edward growled under his breath, bending over his notebook as Ms. Paz, a haggard new divorcee with a limp, wheezed down the aisles. Fantastic. His greatest ally had already done the work for him and cast him off as a basket case.

'_You're welcome, brother.'_

Ugh, even her thoughts were overly cheerful. "Is there something you neglected to tell me?"

Alice reclined back in her seat, amusement twinkling in her eyes. _'Jessica Stanley won't shut up about the 'delectable newcomers'… Seen them yet?'_

"Why would you think I have?"Edward said shortly, watching Ms. Paz's wounded movements.

'_You're practically prone to encounters like that.'_

Well, if she was going to be that way…Edward had no desire to relay of his encounter with one of the men, not that he would be able to describe him much. He had never, with the exception of Bella, concerned himself with humans. This fact wouldn't change.

The following hours were painfully uneventful, with the brief exception of a moment during lunch in which Chief Swan had walked into the cafeteria and asked Bella to lunch. Edward had briefly enjoyed her mortification. It was later, while coming out of Calculus, when Edward wandered into the trees to the side of the courtyard.

He took a deep dizzying breath. No unusual scents assaulted him. Scanning the nearest shadows revealed no prowling Victorias or loitering students. With little to justify himself, Edward bolted at full speed to the opposite side of the school and returned with similar results.

Venom flooded Edward's mouth as adrenaline and frustration warred inside him.

Edward didn't like to fail.

To calm himself Edward shut his eyes, listening to the groaning metal of the old school buildings, the musical rhythm of human hearts in the background, only to snap his eyes open when the sound of rustling leaves overwhelmed all else.

Far off in the back, at the school boundary, he spotted the source. Some of the tree tops there were quivering violently.

There was something wrong. The air now cackled with a current, like a charged quality that was left in the wake of a lightning storm. Only the clouds weren't laden with rain and the forecast had given no signs of foul weather, despite the gloomy dimness that often struck the town.

Edward walked away from the main building, letting his instincts carry him past the dilapidated benches that lined the car loop and around the weathered gymnasium, where he came to an abrupt stop.

The air was stifling.

And just as soon, a violent gust of wind slapped his face, granules of sand grinding stubbornly against his skin, before it moved away. Not ten feet ahead of him, just past the line of oaks, the stranger from the morning was standing.

His back to Edward, the man had his hands spread at his side, breathing deeply. Inexplicably, the wind seemed to rise from his feet, winding down past the trees and rushing in a violent motion towards Edward's position. And then the man sighed, almost in relief, and his graceful flow of movement made it so that he was still wearing that expression when he intercepted Edward's gaze.

It felt like he'd just intruded on something he shouldn't have seen, and it was even more challenging not to note that the strange wind had completely disappeared as soon as the stranger lowered his hands.

"Don't run, Edward," the man warned, taking a step towards him as he reached for something in his jeans. For a very perplexed moment, Edward believed he saw some type of ornate stick. Then the man's green eyes were riveted on Edward, soft and yielding, yet assaulting in their rough intensity. It was unnerving to see eyes with such depth in someone so young; they had a type of hardened quality to them that didn't belong in such a small town.

"That hadn't crossed my mind," Edward responded evenly, confused by his own inability to rationalize away what he had just seen. With marked discomfort, he suddenly realized the eerie quiet in his mind, which had yet to be inundated with foreign thoughts. Edward pushed hard, concentrating his efforts, only to pull back when the stranger cringed.

The man's reaction instantly fell away to passivity, though the lean, muscular lines of his neck still flexed with tension. They stared at each other.

Edward remembered the man had never given him his name.

"Strange windstorms in this town," the man—Green Eyes (Edward wasn't overly creative with inventing monikers under duress) said smoothly, as if it could possibly explain the level of unnatural disorder Edward had just witnessed.

Edward was jolted from voicing his disbelief when he heard steps approaching behind them. Green Eyes instantly reached for his back pocket at the sound, but then he looked up at Edward, hesitating as his hand clenched at his side.

He was sure he caught another few glimpses of the ornate stick before the man's expression became cautionary. "Bloody hell…" Green Eyes cursed under his breath, aborting the movement and grabbing Edward's arm. "Hide, for Merlin's sake…down wind," he stressed, pushing Edward towards the trees. "Of all people…" he mumbled just as Edward thoughtlessly hid.

Instantly, Edward regretted heeding the demand. But to '_unhide'_ just as an older man approached Green Eyes seemed immature at best. He didn't want to reveal his ineptitude.

What happened next only served to double Edward's confusion. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that he was missing something, or that what was being said meant something else entirely.

"That was completely excessive," the newcomer gasped, his brows knitted with annoyance as he bounded up the grass incline towards Green Eyes. It was one of the older men he had seen at the parking lot. "Even Teddy felt his hair stand on end with that ridiculous ward."

"Sorry, Remus," Green Eyes grinned, "I got to thinking about Lily and I lost it for a bit."

The older man's face softened, though his eyes continuously swept across the clearing and his body seemed rigid. "I've been on edge since this morning," he—Remus? - explained, "I didn't consider the possibility of _obstacles_…"

"I won't let—"

"I know that," Remus cut in. The newcomer scanned the area once more, his eyes lingering on what appeared to be a particular segment of sky. "The sheer magnitude of what you're capable of conjuring…" he drifted off in what sounded like awe, seeming to catch himself after a moment. "Shall we head back?"

"You go ahead," Green Eyes responded, "I'm going to check a few more things."

Remus sighed, but was already moving away. "With this amount of defense, it's frightening close to feeling similar to Hogwarts," he shot back dryly, smiling when his companion laughed.

Once he was gone, Green Eyes zeroed in on Edward's position. The careful control and cold calculation in his every movement could have been overlooked by the utterly disarming quality of his handsome face. It was as if the influence that his green eyes yielded naturally flowed into his every gesture.

Silly little girls like Jessica Stanley must have swooned all day, Edward scoffed.

More importantly, he didn't know how to describe the exchange he'd just witnessed, or understand why he'd been made to hide as Green Eyes and Remus spoke of hog warts and obstacles. And the fact that he'd been purposefully singled out that morning was suddenly taking on a second meaning. "Why did I have to hide?" Edward asked bluntly, his frustration coloring his tone.

Without answering, Green Eyes kept his gaze as he approached Edward. "I didn't want your impeccable reputation marred by being caught skipping class," the man said smoothly, smiling at Edward's glare. "Did you actually want me to acknowledge how your school avoids you like the plague, Edward?"

"No, but I suppose you have already formulated your theories," Edward responded, starting to feel his anger stir at the turn the conversation had taken. Could he rationally interpret the clumsy excuse and knowing smirk as an insinuation of what he was? It wasn't overly verbose, but Edward was feeling an increasing sense of paranoia in his gut.

"Theories are hardly necessary for your _case_, Edward," the man quipped.

His alarm lurched and Edward could have sworn his gaze flicked down to his teeth before going back up to his eyes. Green Eyes began to walk away as Edward stood there, struggling to keep the tension from registering on his face. There was no way the human knew he was a vampire, yet Edward couldn't stop the uneasiness, the foreboding from spreading through him.

"Walk with me; you're already late," Green Eyes called over his shoulder.

"So, you do know who's responsible for the blank space I received in my schedule this morning," Edward tried neutrally, swallowing the venom in his mouth.

"That must have been Harry; he has a thing about privacy," Green Eyes responded lightly, smiling to himself.

Irritated that his questions continued to be met with elusive responses, Edward quelled his temper before he asked, "This paranoid teacher, he is teaching something in the gym?"

The man winced. "You didn't have to label me with such a definitive term, you know."

Edward had to squash his own amusement, feeling as if he was going mad from the sheer confusion alone. At least he finally had a name. Edward used the silence on the trek back to make sense of his thoughts. Needless to say, he got nowhere.

"I want you to listen, Edward," Green Eyes—er—Harry spoke as they reached the car loop, "when I say that I enjoy my privacy." Stopping, he turned, barely at arm's length from Edward. "I don't know what you believe you saw, but I wouldn't appreciate you inviting others to speculate with you about any of this. I'm sure you'll welcome my discretion as well…?"

Harry didn't wait for a response, leaving Edward staring after him as he entered the gym.

Had he just been threatened?

Harry's tone had not been aggressive enough to warrant Edward's ire, he knew that, but had he missed something poignant within the strain of vague allusions? It sounded to him as if Harry could possibly have information on him as well, but perhaps he was reading into it too deeply. Perhaps Harry's cordial attitude was indicative of his suggestive air being a form of unconventional joking? Was it a trend for people to just accuse each other of vampirism for fun?

Insecurity wounded his already tremulous pride. Bella was supposed to be the only person he couldn't read; she was special. Someone else couldn't just appear, eluding him completely, without any regard or concern for what he was.

The class had already begun as Edward dazedly walked over to the chairs arranged directly at the center of the gym. The entire senior class was huddled together, the low hum of their thoughts invading Edward's mind with excitement and trepidation. And right in front of the class stood Harry, flanked on both sides by two men.

There was the same sandy-haired man that Harry had called Remus, and a regal looking man with enough charm to rival Rosalie's. Behind them, a small boy was huddled on the floor with a picture book in his lap. Next to him there was a playpen made out of blue mesh, where a baby stood, two tiny hands grasping the side, as she stared out at the class with large green eyes. It seemed that no one in the class was immune to wondering about them. Teachers were rarely permitted to bring their children to school.

Edward looked back at the teachers, finding two pairs of eyes trained on him. It was the two men next to Harry, their cold gazes a bit too severe to be interpreted as a reproach for being late. They didn't stop looking at him until he had found his seat next to Alice. Edward's mood plummeted further.

It took him by surprise when he tuned in to Harry's speech, "We'll be instructing you guys in the practical and theoretical applications of self defense. As Chief Swan has just informed you, there are concerns that all of you will enter the world outside this town without any real concept of malice. And while it's regrettable that this is necessary, we would rather expose you to ways in which you can avoid dangerous situations or defend yourself when you find yourself in one."

The man was a very serious teacher, and by the rapt attention he was keeping among the teens, it seemed they too were drawn in by his manner. Harry stood tall before them, his posture flawless, and his casual attire detracted nothing from his formidable presence.

"There are three lessons that I hope you take with you, if nothing else, from this course," Harry continued. "Lesson number one, the first thing you must always do before all else is to find a way to escape. This applies to the blokes as well," he said pointedly when some of the males snorted. "Run, even if it's a fairy princess wielding a knife and you've got to abandon your bollocks." He paused, smiling at the sudden uproar of laughter. "Secondly, these lessons aren't to help you become trained fighters—don't use what you learn here as a weapon against someone you provoke into a conflict. I'll trust you're responsible and mature enough to use your heads before your fists." Here he paced the length of the room, giving the illusion that he was examining everyone's reaction to this comment, as if he'd weed out any who didn't.

Edward knew instantly that Harry had them, that the class had given him their respect without a second thought. "Third lesson, and this might make the most profound difference, de-escalate a situation, which means you'll do everything in your power not to aggravate your attacker further. Lie your little hearts out if you have to."

Alice stirred next to him, observing the students closely. _'He's very good at this, isn't he?' _she thought, directing the question at Edward. He nodded, automatically finding Bella next to Jessica Stanley out of habit. Bella was biting her lip with every new rule Harry uttered. Edward was reminded of her attack in Port Angeles, where a group of revolting men had attacked her. It still irked him to know that her instincts for survival were way off, despite the fact that they had led her to him.

For just a moment, Bella forgot herself and looked at him. Edward could hardly resist mouthing, "I told you so."' He indulged in the brief exchange, still savoring it when she turned away, wearing a small smile.

"The first half of every class is instruction, the last portion will be the practical," Harry had continued. "If I feel you're not getting it, you will not set foot on these mats. If you've neglected to do your assignments, you will sit out from the mats as you do it. This is not a free period, and I'm not your babysitter. Questions?"

Alice nudged him in the ribs with enough force to make him jump, just as someone near the front asked Harry about the children in the room. _'You were with our newest Professor Potter outside, weren't you?'_

So, it had only been him who had indirectly received permission to call the instructor by his first name. Edward's frustration stirred again. Not once during the whole encounter had Harry treated him like some wayward student. And while that may have been welcomed if he wasn't currently trying to blend in with teens, it had larger implications for how much Harry really knew.

"The baby is my daughter, and that's my godson, Professor Lupin's son," Harry answered the class. The last he said with gravity, "None of you have my permission to go near them."

Alice stomped on his foot and he came to the realization that he'd unintentionally been ignoring her. This time she spoke aloud, though it was quiet enough to not be overhead by humans, "What happened with the instructor?"

Edward made up his mind to tell her; he'd welcome her if she could possibly make sense of his new found mystery. "This instructor…I saw him doing something in the b-" Edward was interrupted when Harry directed his attention to the back of the room.

Mike Newton chimed in with a request, "Can you show us how defense movements are different from counter attacks?"

Once more attempting to recount his encounter to Alice, he was incensed when he heard his name called.

"Edward Cullen, can you join me for a demonstration."

Edward couldn't believe it. Harry couldn't have possibly heard what he'd been telling Alice, but the glint in his green eyes and the way his two companions were silently exchanging glances of unease told him that he had, in fact, heard.

All eyes were on him as he made it up to the front, standing in front of the Harry as the other instructors retreated to the back. He moved forward, very close to Edward, making it look like he was intending to keep his plan between them by saying it all into his ear. "That was irresponsible, Edward…" Harry whispered, his warm breath hitting Edward's neck.

Edward leaned forward, doing the same. "I didn't promise you anything, Harry," he responded, ignoring his impulse to push this person away from him.

"True," Harry conceded, with a slight touch of humor. "Think you can play nice for the next few minutes as I request that you attack me…considering how much I've managed to affront you, Edward?"

"Perhaps… Do you think you can quit grating on my nerves with your roundabout manner, Harry?" Edward shot back, trying to stay collected.

Harry chuckled lightly into his ear. "Perhaps…" he whispered, moving away and standing perfectly still.

"Cullen, if you would…" Harry prompted. Edward didn't hesitate to launch himself at the other man, careful to slow his movements and downplay his agility in front of the class. Grabbing the arm Edward had weakly shot in his direction, Harry tossed him down on the floor in a practiced maneuver.

It was unexpected.

Edward had intended to fake his falls, and now the other man was throwing him about as if his stone-hard body weighed nothing. Harry's eyes lit with amusement as Edward glared. Either Edward's grasp of gravity was off or Harry Potter possessed considerable strength.

"You're feigning it too much," Harry whispered as Edward jumped up from the ground.

"Please refrain from criticizing my performance," he snapped back under his breath, tiring of being so swiftly manipulated.

Harry smiled, turning back to the class and calling out, "Attack!"

Edward saw red at the amusement plain on Harry Potter's face, the beast inside him reeling as he swept forward and gripped the instructor with enough force to bruise any human, though he managed to reclaim his control a mere instant before bones might've broken.

Guilt ran rampant through his gut until Harry spoke again.

"Class, if an attacker grabs you from behind, though they won't be as kind as Cullen is being to my shoulders with his weak grip, this next maneuver will work," Harry informed the students, placing his hand under Edward's arm and dislodging him in one quick movement. Edward's anger and conscience were now going head to head. His hands were quaking.

He was being provoked, Edward was almost sure of it.

"Attack," Harry commanded, eying him curiously.

Edward hesitated, uncertain if he could trust his own perception of events when he hadn't been in a clear state of mind since Volterra. And he was even more unpracticed with drawing conclusion without the crutch of his affinity to read thoughts.

"Cullen, move!" Harry snapped.

He lost it.

Before he could stop himself, Edward had launched his fist with so much force that it sliced through the air with a low whistle; he was sure that in a few moments his life in Forks would be over, that he was going to murder the instructor on impact. It was a split instant later that a warm hand wound itself around his and slammed it down into the gym floor. The concrete crumbled under his fingers, his bones breaking on impact. As they worked to reset themselves, the hand tightened against his.

"Don't move," a calm voice whispered. "It's alright."

For an instant, Edward was sure that Alice had somehow intervened, that she had foreseen it, but he was paralyzed to see Harry crouched above him. The muscles in his arm were trembling with effort as they held his fist down. There was no way any human could evade that kind of attack.

"What…?" Edward tried to vocalize, only to stop when the floor began to rise under his fingers, as if it was repairing the damage on its own. Cool floor polish layered itself beneath his hand and Edward couldn't even begin to initiate any type of coherent thought. The floor was impeccable now; there was absolutely no evidence that he'd just driven his fist through it.

In a low murmur, the man spoke, "Now we're even." And then aloud to the class, "Thank you, Cullen, you may return to your seat."

Edward remained flat on his back, staring up at the man who had the gall to treat what had just happened with such levity. The man's steady gaze revealed nothing as he offered Edward his hand. He didn't understand how the class hadn't heard-let alone seen-what had just happened.

'_That almost looked convincing,_' Alice thought, once he sat down next to her. _'Though throwing yourself down on the floor was a bit much.'_

Careful not to reveal his bewilderment, his eyes shot up to her face. Even Alice hadn't noticed? At this point, Edward was beginning to doubt that the bizarre day was happening at all. He turned over all that had occurred since meeting Harry Potter, trying to imagine a way to explain what had transpired.

No revelation came to him.

Harry still spoke in front of the classroom as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, "When you're terrified, your adrenaline's running, and your next action will determine whether you'll ever get to apologize to mum for sneaking out. The last thing I want you all to do in that moment is to doubt that you can apply your knowledge here elsewhere. Too much confidence, you're dead; too little, and your attacks are fatally low-powered. For your homework I want you to think of what you want to protect—whether it be your family, your goals, or your dog Fluffy. Think about your desires, your limitations, and find what'll drive you to do your best in this course. Dismissed," he finished cheerfully, though the class remained in their seats contemplating his words.

Edward met Harry's gaze. The other man shook his head, raising his finger to his lips in a gesture for discretion. Against his better judgment, Edward nodded his acquiescence to the momentary ceasefire.

On his way out, Edward made it outside before he noticed the weight of something foreign banging against his leg. He reached inside his pocket, pulling out three garlic cloves.

The instructors were already walking ahead of them, but Harry looked back at him with such a harmless smile that Edward was instantaneously disarmed from marching over and making a scene. While he wasn't sure what significance the cloves had in regards to Harry's intentions, Harry had taken responsibility for the act.

It was still beyond his comprehension why Harry would reveal his trick of planting garlic cloves in odd places when Edward had all but flaunted his abnormal strength just moments before. It didn't make any sense to so seriously allude to his vampirism when Harry had seemed so determined to remain vague in the clearing.

Edward felt teased, utterly outclassed to a stranger that didn't seem even remotely preoccupied with him being a monster. But Harry's camaraderie attitude didn't even allow him to rationally respond with violence, as he was aching to hunt down the new teacher and demand they at least have a logically appropriate confrontation. All he was left with after the long, trying ordeal was a one-sided declaration that they were even and a heap of questions he was more than entitled to have answered.

Somehow, Edward made it to his car.

"So, what were you saying about Instructor Potter?" Alice said casually as he started the Volvo.

"Never mind... I'm just a little off-misinterpreted something, that's all," he heard himself say distantly.

Alice's gaze swept his face as they waited in the line of cars at the parking exit. _'It must have been hard, with Bella so close,'_ she thought.

She hadn't meant for him to hear him, so Edward tried to allow her a semblance of privacy by letting the random thoughts of Fork's populace drone out her voice. It was the least he could do for his siblings to at least try not hold his touchiness for certain subjects over their heads.

Tension and anticipation pulled at Edward's chest. He had another night of self-imposed isolation to look forward to and He'd just stumbled upon a distraction.

Harry Potter was not going to have the last word.

**A/N: _It's almost July and I have every intention of starting up a regular updating schedule with this fic but my computer combusted into a virus-riddled pile of ash, kidnapped my docs, and on another front I have to fight to get back into school and finish my last year with two degrees in hand without being sucked dry by the mosquitoes at the finaid office. Poorness is sadness. :( Thanks for your continued support guys. 6/28/2011_**


End file.
